


Painted Red

by mozesandme



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozesandme/pseuds/mozesandme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was there, the first person who comes into sight when you open your eyes. </p><p>He burst out into tears and suddenly you felt yourself tip off the high string, tumbling down into the net that caught you. </p><p>You were no long balancing, swaying back and forth on a thin line. </p><p>You knew when you saw him by your bedside, sobbing in pure relief, that you loved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted Red

It's autumn again, you can feel the deep chill in your bones from the inside of the window, even if you can't open the damn thing because it's nailed down.

And you can smell the fresh air, even if you're locked away inside the familiar house. He doesn't care. Your father you mean....But your brother does, and really you're not sure how to feel. Angered or loved....Who knew it was a really thin line you were walking on with him, so thin that you kept teetering back and forth, always stuck in between. 

After mom died was when he wouldn't leave you alone.  
Once again, your brother, your father was too drunk to care at all.  
Either way he became very motherly, always keeping you inside and making sure you had your medicine on you if you ever went outside with him, which was rare. You could probably blame the accident for his endless worrying and overbearing nature, before that ever happened he had his own thing going and really urged you to actually leave the house, but you were always too afraid to. Now it was different. 

Now you were almost eighteen and you still hasn't been outside in weeks, except for school or food purposes. Though sometimes you liked to sneak out to the park, and look around for a bit, maybe meet up with some friends, who were probably just as equally over bearing.  
Once again teetering on that line between annoyance and gratitude.

You had never played sports, or rode a roller coaster. You have never been swimming in a five or the sea, you have never done a lot of things, some of them were too risky to do. 

You hated it. Your brother and your genetics, and how your brother barely got anything and got to live his life. Though sometimes you would have him tell you stories. 

He was great with telling stories about his childhood, before you were born, and he always talked of mother and how beautiful she was. You actually urged him to talk a lot, it was only when he was reprimanding you that you just wanted him to shut his trap. Though you always told him that he was a natural at speeches.  
You guess you lived that way, through his stories of course, not having any of your own. Nothing but the scar that ran down your back and the story of mom's death.

Though you had no one to tell. 

The window is cold at your fingertips and you just wish you could leave, do something, go horseback riding or jump into a river. You wish you could go dirt bike riding. Something, anything really. You shouldn't have born, you can't even live your life so what's the point? 

You turn from the window, already sick in your stomach from looking outside, when honestly you could be out there running around like every other normal god damn teenager. Picking your way around the mess of paperwork and clothes you hear the car engine going from the garage and you make and educated guess that Kankri is probably home. You actually avoid him today, cause you're really not in the mood, so you slip out into the backyard, mud meeting the concrete of your back porch and piles of junk in the far corner creating a small mountain of rusted trash.

Waddling through the mud, you make your way over and start climbing, pausing to rub at your eyes so that they could adjust to the daylight. It honestly doesn't take long for you to reach the top, and it feels nice to be sitting there, getting a small over view of the color painted trees, their colored leaves littering the muddy ground. Parts of the small forrest were already grey and dead looking but it was mostly drowning in dark oranges, reds and browns, a little yellows here and there. The colors look warm and inviting, so you turn, flopping your legs over the side of the fence that the small trash mountain had collected against. Squinting your eyes you glance around and start to push forward, curling your toes because for once in the past two weeks you are about to leave the house. You feel yourself smile, and just as you start to slide down your foot gets caught and you feel yourself fall.

All the way down.


End file.
